


Tidings of Comfort and Joy

by marginalia



Category: Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian, Master and Commander - All Media Types, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-23
Updated: 2004-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1628972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/pseuds/marginalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boundaries change by land or by sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidings of Comfort and Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Laura Kaye

 

 

It is strange and small how things begin: a concert, a tapping hand, irritation and anger springing to the fore. Stranger yet how things change: by smile and chance, passions shared and needs filled.

Perhaps it does not matter so much how they happen, but that they do. Moods and boundaries shift and a journey has begun.

:::

Jack, first impressions notwithstanding, was a rather difficult fellow to dislike. It had been some time since Stephen had known someone who left himself so often unguarded among peers. The shortage of pretense was both endearing and worrisome; such open desire was a vulnerability of course, but one could not resist his overwhelming desire to be liked.

When Jack was on land, Stephen could not help but worry for him. At sea Jack was fully himself, powerful and controlled, but on land he was, as he might say himself, rather dished. His large appetites lead to many dangers, from social missteps to debtor troubles, and it was always best when he could escape to the sea. It was strange that someone as fully English as Jack was often safer away from his country.

There were strong exceptions, though, such as the long walk to Spain, but perhaps it only pointed up the fact that Jack belonged on the water, or perhaps that on land he required rescue by Stephen.

Stephen himself found comfort in the routine of life at sea, and peace in the roles of doctor and captain. Jack's strengths were fully realized in strategy and command, and if Stephen prodded him from time to time regarding his health it was both in his role as doctor and the affection from his role as a friend, neither obstructing the other.

:::

Of course Jack loved Sophie and the children, alarming little creatures though they were. There was never any question about that. Sophie was such a different sort of being, though. He thought that perhaps he should miss her more. He missed the softness of her, a sweetness unmatched in any port, but it was so different from the unnamed terror he felt when Stephen was gone.

He never thought it through or truly noticed it at all, but the men knew when the Doctor was away to be careful around their captain. Aloud he would say, quite without realizing it, "Oh, how I wish Stephen were here!" When Stephen was about, Jack could watch over him, even in port there were always _Surprises_ within the distance of a call, but these times when Stephen was ashore alone, when Jack had let the men think he was visiting a woman, these were the times for concern. Without even knowing precisely where Stephen was or who he might be seeing, Jack ran through maneuver after maneuver in his mind, dreading the possibility of rescuing Stephen, not for fear for himself of his crew but of what they might find. When Stephen was away, Jack had nightmares of Port Mahon, dreams that no planning could assuage.

"Which he'll be back safe as houses when he's ready, sir," Killick would say as he brought in the coffee, and Jack would clumsily feign disinterest in the whole affair, pushing about charts and muttering about a prize.

Such playacting was shattered by the open joy when Stephen at last returned, even when he was dripping from a tumble into the sea or came bearing strange creatures or clothing and a boundless, unshared enthusiasm for either one. Jack never attempted to hide his genuine affection for even the strangest quirks of the Doctor, for the universe was once again set to rights when they were together on board.

:::

And so it was that nothing was quite correct when one was on land. Perhaps they were both born to the sea. There was a strange dichotomy there that appealed: the strict regime of the ship all at the whim of the wind and the weather. Sailors controlled what they could, a firm set of rules providing a structure in which to exist, the comfort of the expected in their routine balanced against the chaos of the natural world.

There is a certain freedom in roles, even, in knowing what you are meant to do and knowing that you can do it well, and between the two the world of the _Surprise_ found its equilibrium.

:::

Tonight the snow is falling pale into the dark of the deep, shadows in the lanterns around the _Surprise_. Carols have been sung, the high young voices of the mids blending with the grizzled tones of the men on watch above. Killick has outdone himself, both in cooking and muttered asides, and the stories and wine have flowed freely. It is a happy ship.

The light glows softly in Jack's quarters after, when they are alone. As the door closes they transform from captain and doctor to Jack and Stephen, a nearly imperceptible shift, and yet a shift that means the world. Stephen's hand is strong on Jack's shoulder for just a moment before they settle in to talking over the day. There is still more music, and Jack acts as though he does not see when Stephen flexes the stiff, once-damaged fingers. Even in this space Stephen prefers to show little weakness, at least when they are still at music. The harmony is sweet on the cold night.

When the instruments are put carefully away, the light is dimmed, and the only sound is the rustle of the night watch, then they shift once more, into need and quiet heat and finally into peace. Jack sleeps instantly, heavily. Stephen breathes slow and deep to match the gentle rhythm until he sleeps as well.

 

 

 


End file.
